When you travel alone for a large amount of time, you think you are alone… except of course, for the etheric rope that connects you to the real world and your loved ones back home, now even more accessible with social media and skype. If you are anything like me, for the first few days, or weeks, you somehow look back rather than ahead, still tethered to their hearts, in a way so not to forget them, and more importantly, for them not to forget you. It is your safety as you clamber into the unknown. For when connected, you can tug on that rope, and know that someone will be there to pull you up.

So far throughout my European journey, I had been gliding between the two worlds, living part in the past, that is nine hours behind, and the other half in the present moment; hanging in the in between. And in order to truly experience what I needed to experience, I couldn’t hold on. I needed to cut the chords, and let go of my safety net once and for all.

There is a reason I chose to embark on this journey Mio Solo, sans a travel companion, other than a small stuffed elephant named Hope. (You never leave home without Hope, but more on him later.) For when you are by yourself, you are more open to the gifts of each moment. Rather than distracted by dialogue, you are an observer, taking in the surroundings. With each breath, a new mental picture and memory is absorbed. A new thought occurs, that is allowed because there is space in your mind, from the expansion of quiet. Soaking in the experience with wide, undistracted eyes. You become clear. Present. Undisturbed. A carrier pigeon for transformation, passing on the tradition to the family and friends back home, thereby also changing them for taking the courageous first step that they were somehow unable to make.